Little Nothings
by windlily
Summary: Random drabblesque stories of varying genres, mostly humor, focused on Hitsugaya Toushirou which shall be sporadically updated at my own personal convenience.
1. Sometimes

**Title:** Sometimes

**Genre:** Some bittersweet humor, I suppose

**Characters:** Hitsugaya and Matsumoto

**Summary:** Only she was capable of making him understand.

* * *

Sometimes, he didn't want to do anything. Sometimes, he just wanted to lean back in his chair and forget everything. Sometimes, he wished he was still lost in his dreams with Hinamori.

But then Matsumoto would charge into the office three hours late, complaining about the weather and how, because it was so dark and gloomy, she had thought it was still night time. And that was why she was late. It wasn't because she had been drinking with Abarai and Kira far into the early morning. Certainly not.

Whatever had given him that idea?

He would grimace and indicate the large pile of paperwork stacked neatly on her desk. She would huff and stomp over, all the while complaining about how she was so mistreated and how her taichou didn't even have the tact to say good morning to her. Then she would proceed to doodle on the margins of the reports for a good portion of the day before falling asleep on the couch.

She would snore, and he would smirk as she nearly rolled onto the floor. And he would newly understand, as he did every day, walking over to her desk and taking half of the unfinished logs back to his own.

He could never go back to that nothingness.

Because if he did, the Tenth Division would be left with no one but Matsumoto to run it.

And he couldn't allow that.


	2. Which

**Title:** Which

**Genre:** Serious contemplation

**Characters:** Hitsugaya, mentioned Hinamori and Matsumoto

**Summary: **He couldn't choose.

* * *

Hitsugaya wasn't quite as naïve in matters of love as other people seemed to enjoy thinking he was. He understood what such feelings entailed as well as all of the varying types of love one could feel and how those types varied with the different people one could fall in love with. He understood its complexity, and he understood its depth.

His naivety did not lie in identifying or understanding love. Instead it lie in deciding which type of love was best to pursue, which person merited which type of love, and what such a choice would mean for his future.

He had yet to decide.

Because if Hinamori were to die, he knew he would die with her.

Because if Matsumoto were to die, he knew he would die without her.

And he still didn't know which hurt worse.


	3. Punishment

**Title:** Punishment

**Genre:** Humor

**Characters:** Hitsugaya and a sad, sad unnamed shinigami

**Summary: **Revenge is a dish best served frozen.

* * *

"Insignificant. Diminished. Unimportant. Stunted. Fragile. Trivial. Lacking. Inadequate. Trifling. Menial. Deficient. Tell me if I've missed any."

"N-No, sir."

"Would you say that, under current circumstances, you have come to realize your opinion was both unnecessary and, furthermore, uncalled for?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

"And has this revelation led to a need to say anything in particular?"

The Eleventh Division shinigami whimpered like a little, lost school girl. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll never, ever, _ever_ do it again! Sir!"

"Good."

Hitsugaya Toushirou began to leave, a wave of his hand releasing the shivering shinigami from the countless spires of frozen spikes that, just moments ago, had been aimed at various vital points of his body.

"Um … sir? My … er … feet?"

The young taichou turned back around, eyeing the large amount of ice still holding the shinigami's feet to the ceiling. "Don't worry. If you make enough noise, I'm sure someone will find you before frostbite sets in."

And he was gone, his wicked smirk alerting everyone he passed that they would be in for yet another long night of looking for his latest victim.

"They called him _shorty_ again, didn't they?"

Hell hath no fury like Hitsugaya scorned.


	4. I Spy

**Title:** I Spy

**Genre:** Humor

**Characters:** Hitsugaya, Matsumoto

**Summary: **She just didn't understand what could have gotten into him.

* * *

Matsumoto could tell her taichou wasn't very pleased. They had been sent on yet another stake-out in the living world, forced to spend all night staring at absolutely nothing while hoping fervently that it would change into something soon so as to alleviate their growing boredom. Well, Hitsugaya didn't look so much bored as aggravated, if she was going to be honest with herself.

She decided she should try to cheer him up.

"Yo, Taichou! Let's play a game," she exalted, grinning broadly at his return scowl. Without waiting for his reply, she began. "I spy with my little eye … something … white. Try to guess what it is, Taichou!"

"Is it my hair?" he groaned, sounding particularly pained.

"Wow! How did you guess, Taichou?!"

"I'm psychic," Hitsugaya grunted sarcastically, hoping that it would succeed in finally shutting her up. It worked … for all of two minutes.

"Hey, Taichou! Let's play a game! Here! I know just the one. I spy with my little eye … something … white. Guess what it is!"

Matsumoto could not, for the life of her, figure out why her taichou then proceeded to bang his head numerous times against the nearest metal pole.

After all, if he was psychic, he should've seen it coming, right?


	5. Younger Generation

**Title:** Younger Generation

**Genre:** Humor

**Characters:** Hitsugaya, Yamamoto, Matsumoto, mentioned Yachiru

**Summary: **Yamamoto has high hopes for Hitsugaya.

**

* * *

**

Even amidst the turmoil of the present, Yamamoto-soutaichou sometimes found time to lose himself to his thoughts. These mental journeys often led him to interesting insights, and this particular train of thought intrigued him. He recognized the fact that he was quite possibly the oldest soul in Soul Society. And he had lived so long because of his immense strength. But now they would be facing enemies with power to match his own, and he could not be sure he would survive the inevitable war.

So what of the younger generation? Who would take his place? Most likely his student, Ukitake. The man was intelligent, quick, and enduring. The fact that he had survived his illness for so long was proof of this and so much more. And when Ukitake could no longer bear the burden, who then?

The thought brought a thin smile to his aged lips.

He would like to think Ukitake's successor would be their infamous, young prodigy, Hitsugaya. The boy was dangerously calculating and his potential was beyond imagination. He would take on the position with pride.

And once Hitsugaya was gone, who next? Yamamoto stopped short. The only shinigami younger than Hitsugaya and with enough potential to take up such a high position was … Kusajishi.

Luckily, he was saved from further contemplation by none other than Hitsugaya himself, accompanied by his fukutaichou. "Yamamoto-soutaichou, you summoned us?"

"Ah, yes. The two of you have been recommended to lead a small raid to the north. I will have Sasakibe give you the details."

Hitsugaya nodded and turned to leave, Matsumoto in tow, but Yamamoto stood before they could do so, and the two paused. The aged shinigami approached Hitsugaya and, much to his surprise, gripped his shoulder firmly. "Hitsugaya-taichou, I beg of you…" The old man's expression told the Tenth Division taichou that he was alarmingly serious, and the young shinigami prepared himself for the worst. "… Please, outlive Kusajishi-fukutaichou."

And as Seireitei's soutaichou lifted his hand and left the room, Hitsugaya could only stare.

"I feel as if the future of Soul Society has been placed entirely on my shoulders," the white crowned taichou finally managed, "… and yet I can't, for the life of me, figure out why."

"Maybe he doesn't like being called Shi-Shi-ojichan?" Matsumoto suggested.

Hitsugaya shrugged before heading off to find Sasakibe.

It was as good a reason as any.


	6. Something Deeper

**Title:** Something Deeper

**Genre:** I really dunno. General, I guess.

**Characters:** Hitsugaya and Matsumoto

**Summary:** Matsumoto knows it's stupid.

* * *

Hitsugaya groaned as he hauled his fukutaichou out of the bar. Another night of drunken raving; another night of dragging her inebriated corpse back to her apartment.

And, of course, the rant of the day just had to be about Ichimaru Gin.

"It's those goshdarned eyes, Taichou! That's what it is! They're never open. And that smile! It's always fake!" she whined as they continued their hop-step routine down the cobbled walkway. "It makes him so mysterious, ya know? I guess I'm just one of those girls that falls for that stupid stuff. You look at all the shallowness, and you know there's something deeper. You wanna just reach out and catch it. But you can't. So you idealize it and idolize it. And you know it's stupid, but you just can't help it!"

Matsumoto nearly toppled over, Hitsugaya now the only thing between her and a painful face plant. "I just can't help it, Taichou. I still want to catch it."

Hitsugaya remained silent. He knew she was in no condition to walk any further. With a sigh, he pulled her up onto his back and began carrying her. She curled up so that her feet didn't drag on the ground and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"But … you know …" she whispered as she began to succumb to sleep, "I've been thinkin' … maybe ... I can catch it … somewhere else."

Hitsugaya carried her the rest of the way home.


	7. Initiation

**Title:** Initiation

**Genre:** Humor

**Characters:** Hitsugaya, Ukitake, and Unohana

**Summary: **It's not something one easily forgets.

* * *

Hitsugaya Toushirou shivered slightly under the cover of his Fourth Division standard issue blankets. Ukitake-taichou had been trying to soothe him for a while now, but he had taken the whole ordeal rather badly and was slow to recuperate.

"Listen, Hitsugaya-kun, I know that you were caught off guard and that what happened was probably the last thing you expected, but try to think of it as a growing experience, an initiation even. All of us have had similar experiences in the past, and we've all overcome them. Hell, even Kuchiki-taichou and Yamamoto-soutaichou have had their turns. Besides, it was bound to happen sooner or later now that you've been promoted to captaincy."

Hitsugaya frowned, hesitant to look the older shinigami in the eye. "I understand what you're doing, Ukitake-taichou, but it's just not something I'm going to be able to get over with a few encouraging words. It'll take a lot more than that. I'm going to have nightmares for months."

"Yes, I understand; believe me. My first time, I was scared out of my wits. And afterward I nearly vomited all over one of my own men. Shunsui would have laughed if he had not been in an equally sorry state. I don't expect you to overcome such a trauma right away. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you're not alone in your agony."

"Ukitake-taichou. Hitsugaya-taichou."

The two division heads whirled around to face none other than Unohana Retsu, holding a tea tray and wearing her patented sweat, altruistic smile. But that wasn't quite what caught their attention so much as it was the paralyzingly murderous reiatsu emitting from every inch of her body.

"If you have such qualms with Minazuki, perhaps you should refrain from future injury."

They nodded, holding their breath as she set down the tray and left the room, her motherly smile never wavering. No words were necessary.

After all, the only thing scarier than Unohana-taichou's zanpakutou was Unohana-taichou herself.


	8. In a Name

**Title:** In a Name

**Genre:** Kinda-sorta humor; It humored me, at least.

**Characters:** Hitsugaya, Matsumoto, and many others

**Summary:** It's Hitsugaya-taichou.

* * *

Hitsugaya sighed as he strode across Seireitei. It was a long walk to his division, and everyone he passed seemed to be in the highest of spirits. Unfortunately, on days when everyone else was happy, Hitsugaya usually suffered the most.

"Ken-chan! Look! It's Mijikai-chan! 'Morning, Tou-chan!"

"Yo, runt."

Hitsugaya ground his teeth and hastened his pace. He wanted nothing more than to point out that Kusajishi-fukutaichou was even shorter than he was, but he wasn't about to do so with Kenpachi-taichou around. Instead, he settled for a grumbled, "That's Hitsugaya-taichou to you."

"Oh, Shirou-chan! Good morning!"

"Hinamori!" the exasperated taichou whirled around, shouting as she ran off. "That's even worse than Hitsugaya-kun!"

"Ah! I thought I heard yer voice, Toushirou-kun! Whatcha yellin' so loud for?"

"Hitsugaya-kun, it is you. Good morning. I hope you slept well."

Hitsugaya glared at the approaching duo, Kyouraku-taichou already thoroughly drunk and Ukitake-taichou blissfully ignoring him. "It's Hitsugaya-_taichou_," he growled, his mood only becoming more fowl as his walk dragged on.

After what seemed an eternity, he made it to the Tenth Division. But just as he made the mistake of beginning to relax, "Oh, Taichou! I didn't see you at first! Good morning!"

"For the last time!" the young shinigami finally snapped. "It's Hitsugaya-tai-!"

"Hn?" Matsumoto cocked her head. "Is something wrong, Taichou?"

Hitsugaya blinked stupidly as his fukutaichou's concerned stare focused itself upon him.

"I … I guess not."


	9. Presents

**Title:** Presents

**Genre:** Humor

**Characters:** Hitsugaya, Ukitake, Kusajishi

**Summary:** He finally found a use for those annoying presents.

* * *

Hitsugaya's eyes followed the brightly-colored blur up and down, left and right, diagonally, on and on and on. He never moved from his spot, arms folded tightly across his chest and feet planted firmly on the pavement. He only watched in mild amusement, holding back a satisfied grin.

"Er … Hitsugaya-kun, what's going on here?"

Hitsugaya Toushirou finally removed his gaze from the insanely energized blur in order to see Ukitake Jyuushirou stepping tentatively forward. He frowned, turning back just in time for the blur to demolish yet another of Ayasegawa's flower beds. "Kenpachi called me a 'cocky little snot' while we were sparring yesterday," he grunted irritably, ducking out of the way so that the blur could whiz by unchallenged.

Instead of ricocheting past, however, it stopped just long enough to shove a demanding hand into Hitsugaya's face. "MoreMoreMoreMoreMore!" Yachiru demanded, bouncing up and down spastically.

"Fine," the young taichou agreed before reaching into his pocket and taking out another bundle of candy. He handed it to the hyperactive, little girl, and she bounded off once more, a hot pink blur destroying everything in sight. "Oh, and Ukitake-taichou," he added, returning his attention to the older man, "Thank you for that present earlier."

And with that, he turned around and left, leaving an utterly dumbfounded Thirteenth Division taichou in his wake.

The Eleventh Division would get no sleep that night.


	10. Better Than Coffee

**Title: **Better Than Coffee

**Genre: **Humor, weirdness?

**Characters:** Hitsugaya, Mayuri, and Nemu

**Summary:** It sucks to be special.

* * *

Hitsugaya made a point never to stray too close to the Twelfth Division Headquarters. Sure, Kyouraku-taichou and Kenpachi-taichou could be aggravating in their own, special ways. But there was just something about waking up in a strange bed with no idea where you were or why you were there and having the first thing you see be _that mask_ leaning over you as its owner measured the size of your head and compared it to a wooden plaque on the wall that could really make for a very bad day. Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou had tried to consol him to the best of her ability, "If it makes you feel any better, Hitsugaya-taichou, he has also reserved a plaque for Kurosaki and the Quincy."

It didn't help. He hadn't expected it to. But at least he knew that when the time came, his head would not be lonely.


	11. Cry It Out

**Title: **Cry It Out

**Genre: **Hurt/Comfort

**Characters:** Matsumoto, Hitsugaya

**Author's Note:** This one isn't actually in Hitsugaya's point of view, but I decided to put it here anyway. So there.

**Summary:** She had heard it too many times before.

* * *

Matsumoto had often heard that a good cry would help make her feel better. Hinamori had cheerfully explained it to her only weeks before Aizen's betrayal, smiling brightly as Matsumoto burned her finger yet again and cursed the day she had ever learned that her Taichou was fond of yakizakana (1). Shunsui had consoled her with it as they drank together on the roof one night. Isane had tried to comfort her with the phrase when she had visited the Fourth Division to see her Taichou all but dead and slashed nearly in half by Aizen's merciless blade.

Gin had chided her with it as he left her alone in Rukongai in order to join the shinigami.

But Matsumoto knew better. She had always known better. Crying would never ease the pain. It only led to more crying, more heartbreak, and more time to endlessly wonder what she had done wrong. To cry was to wallow in the weaknesses and doubts she refused to let anyone else realize she had.

It was not the crying that made her feel better. No. It was what followed.

It was when that closet door opened and the office lighting revealed a spiky-haired silhouette, when she'd see that familiar scowl, and he'd step into the closet with her, shut the door behind him, and lean against her side. It was when she could feel the light pressure against her body as he reclined against it to stare up into the darkness and share her solitude. Silent. Unexpectant. _There._

That was what always made her feel better. Because someone was by her side, and he understood. And that was all that mattered.

* * *

(1) Yakizakana: flame-grilled fish


	12. U Ph41L

**Title: **U Ph41L

**Genre: **Humor.

**Characters:** Hitsugaya, Yachiru, Zaraki, and Ichigo

**Author's Note:** Inspired by Nadat's awesome drabbles, especially the Kenpachi and Hitsugaya ones.

**Summary:** Logic had no place here.

* * *

Hitsugaya set yet another report down on top of the tall pile, surprised at just how tall it was. But what was even worse was how tall the other pile was, the forms he had yet to complete. Sure, he was known for being a work-a-holic, but honestly! Just because he was willing to do the Fifth Division's paperwork didn't mean he was also willing to do the Eighth's, Eleventh's, and Thirteenth's too! With a huff, he left the office. He would not stand for this, especially with Matsumoto out who knew where shirking her share of the work, and he was damn well going to make sure they understood that. Starting with Zaraki Kenpachi.

"Zaraki! I'm not doing any more of your paperwork!" he growled as he came upon the Eleventh Division's main offices, ramming the door open. Fortunately, this was the Eleventh Division and the door withstood his aggravation. Unfortunately, Zaraki was no where in sight. Instead, a little, pink mass jumped excitedly onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"U R PWNZD!" Yachiru shouted at the top of her lungs, stunning her victim so successfully that he fell backward onto the floor.

"Gah! Kusajishi! What the he-?!"

"U SUXOR 2 TEH MAX! PH34R MY AW3S0M3N3SS!"

"Kusajishi!" He managed to throw her off of him and just barely got back to his feet before he was tackled again. This time it was so fast he hadn't even seen it happen. One moment he was staring her down and the next he was pinned to the floor, his arm painfully pressed against his back and Yachiru's weight a disturbing burden pushing into his stomach.

"YACHIRU PWNZD U! N0 P4P3RW0RKZ 4 M3! I M L337!"

"Okay, okay! Just get off of me!" the Tenth Division taichou shouted hoarsely.

Yachiru abruptly jumped off, a large, innocent smile playing wickedly across her lips. "Thanks so much, Chibi-taichou-chan!" she giggled before running off.

Hitsugaya could only stare. "What the hell was _that_?!"

"See?" a voice chuckled from the safety of the roof. "What did I tell you? No one can win against it. You owe me a thousand yen."

"Heh. It was worth it," smirked one Zaraki Kenpachi as he handed his companion the money owed. "So you got any other strategies like that on Earth, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo's wry grin was answer enough. "Ever seen an American soap? Now _that's_ cruel and unusual punishment."

"Good. Let's try it on Mayuri."


	13. I'm sorry!

**Title:** I'm Sorry!

**Genre:** Humor, Mystery(?)

**Characters:** Hitsugaya, Matsumoto

**Summary:** He might have let it slide if she'd been more sorry and less obnoxious.

* * *

"Taichou, I'm sorry!"

Hitsugaya carefully set down his pen just long enough for his rising gaze to meet the buxom woman who had come running into the office … three hours late. He snorted before continuing with his work. Well, at least she'd apologized right away. She didn't do that very often.

"Ack! No, Taichou!" came the familiar shriek when Rangiku Matsumoto did not go to her desk as Hitsugaya had expected, but instead leaned over his desk with a pleading expression overtaking her frantic features. "Anything but that! Don't give me the silent treatment! I really am sorry! So, so, so sorry! I didn't mean to do it! I swear! I was just … in the wrong place at the wrong time! Yeah, that's it! I wasn't playing around at all! It wasn't my fault that the butterflies went nuts and those idiots had all of that jello, and the giant hole in the wall was already there when I arrived! I swear!"

"Matsumoto!" The young taichou was as far back in his chair as he could muster, hands over his ears in an unsuccessful attempt to drown out his fukutaichou's desperate vocals. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

Finally, the woman ceased, mouth hanging dumbly open. "You … don't know?"

"No," he growled. And here he'd thought she'd been apologizing about being late….

"Oh." The woman perked up considerably, standing straight once again. "Sorry to bother you, Taichou! I'll go get you some tea!"

And she was out of the office before she'd even finished speaking.

It wasn't until several minutes later, when he'd heard an obnoxious racket outside the door and peeked around the corner to see the loose hell butterflies, the slippery, gelatin-covered floors, and the cartoon-esque, Matsumoto-sized hole missing the door by inches, that the pieces finally began to fit together.


	14. Rain Again

**Title:** Rain Again

**Genre:** General, Comfort

**Characters:** Hitsugaya and Matsumoto

**Summary:** He's on the ground. She doesn't think that's where he belongs.

* * *

It was raining again.

This wasn't anything unusual, not in the autumn. But for some reason, the soft, steady droplets impacting against the darkening dirt road still felt strange, out of place. Almost foreboding.

Well, there was that. But there was also the fact that a boy was lying flat in the mud in front of her. A boy with very familiar white hair and the number ten emblazoned across his back. "Taichou…?" Matsumoto Rangiku hazarded, crouching down to get a better look through the rain. "Is that you?"

An awkward silence followed before a grouchy voice that was definitely her taichou's croaked resolutely, "No."

"Ah. I see…" the buxom fukutaichou trailed, her tone solemn. When he still refused to move, she tried again. "Then who are you and what are you doing on the ground?"

"I'm minding my own business," came the gruff reply. "You should try it sometime."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Mr. Minding My Own Business. I'm Mrs. Fat Chance," she huffed, and without warning, she then proceeded to wrap her arms around his muddy waste and haul him right over her shoulder.

The shock lasted exactly 2.836 seconds. Then came the yelling. "Wh-Wha-What the hell are you doing, Matsumoto?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she grumbled as she trudged through the rain, holding her taichou tight despite his insistent struggles. "I'm carrying you home. You obviously weren't doing a very good job of it on your own. Unless you fell face down in the mud on purpose."

His still silence was more of an answer than any number of words could have possibly been.

"You know… I can think of plenty of places more fun to stick that face of yours."

A snort. Not exactly content but not homicidal either. "I'm sure you could."

"So next time you overwork yourself, why don't you come to me instead. At the very least, I'm a lot more comfortable."

Slowly, ever so slowly, Hitsugaya Toushirou began to cease his struggles, allowing himself to melt into the fabric of her ever-present scarf. As she walked, the fickle rain became a light sprinkle and eventually petered out altogether.

"Yeah…" he trailed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're right."


	15. So That's Where They Went

**Title:** So That's Where They Went

**Genre:** Humor, Strangeness

**Characters:** Hitsugaya, Halibel, Nanao, Yammy

**Summary:** Yes. Really. With their feet.

* * *

Halibel unsheathed her sword, the mere second of flowing motion metamorphosing the simple action into an extraordinary display of discipline and power. Hitsugaya knew full well, even as he leveled his own weapon, that this was going to be unlike any battle he'd ever fought before. Luppi didn't even come close, and the woman Espada had a very different motive for fighting than Ichimaru and Aizen had had. This time he wouldn't lose.

The two enemies shared knowing stares, readied their postures, and prepared to cross swords.

"Seriously? That's what they were doing? Just … squishing them?"

"Yes. It is considered entertainment by many."

The Espada and the shinigami both stared in awe as two figures walked unconcernedly between them, chatting away as if nothing was wrong. Ise Nanao pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as Yammy tried to pull off a thoughtful expression and failed miserably.

"With their feet? That's just nasty. I don't think I'll ever look at a peanut butter and jelly sandwich the same way again."

"Well, I suppose. But they do sanitize their legs before crushing the berries."

"Ugh. Still… So where to next?"

"I hear there's an excellent sushi bar just down the street here."

"As long as it's all you can eat, I'm game."

And they continued right on past, turning a corner and walking out of sight, leaving everyone else to wonder what the hell had broken reality.


	16. To Overcome Failure

**Title:** To Overcome Failure

**Genre:** Morbid epiphany, Irony

**Characters:** Hitsugaya

**Summary:** Hitsugaya Toushirou had finally realized.

It wasn't that he cared for the man. That could never happen.

Hitsugaya Toushirou could never care for a traitor.

But he'd seen what he _could _do. And it scared him.

He could level entire plains with ice. He could shatter living things into a thousand frozen pieces. He could kill. He had killed. Never who he wanted.

Obaasan was the lucky one.

Kusaka ... wasn't.

And Hinamori. Oh god, Hinamori.

He couldn't care for him. Not like he'd cared for them. But he couldn't kill him either.

He couldn't hurt him or freeze him or make him cry. He couldn't force him away or bother him or avoid him. He'd never have to avenge him. He'd never have to say goodbye to him.

So when Aizen Sousuke placed a foot atop Hinamori Momo's bleeding body and reached a hand out to him, he took it.

Hitsugaya Toushirou had finally realized.

It was the only place he'd ever be useful. If all he was capable of was ruining the lives of the people he cared about, then that was what he would do.

And for once in his life, he wouldn't be a failure.


End file.
